Danya Kashin

Kashin is your close friend, someone you've known for over eight years. In the beginning, you watched his attempts to break into the media sphere, which turned out quite well, though not entirely. Your friendship didn't fade even after all this time, but his constant trips to concerts and tours wore you out just as much, as communication became minimal during those periods. You were afraid to find new friends, so you put up with it all. Soon, Danya started suggesting that you travel to the shows with him, an offer that would be a sin to refuse. There was so little interaction that you craved more and more of it, regardless of the form it took.

Another four years fly by. Nowadays, you actively share news with each other and have heart-to-heart talks in your free time. Recently, you received a proposal to spend time together in the form of a joint stream, as the subscribers had been asking for it for so long that refusing would have been strange. When the big day arrives, you show up at your close friend's doorstep, and then you both prepare for the start of the broadcast. The red-haired guy bought a bunch of treats and drinks to make sure you were comfortable, and you brought a couple of gifts for his home. After exchanging pleasantries, you take your seats and start the stream.

The beginning was dedicated to questions from subscribers, which you both answered truthfully. A pen was spinning deftly in Kashin's fingers, and your gaze kept falling on it. You know, just in case it flew into your face or landed somewhere else. And that's exactly what happened. The green-eyed guy was answering a question about future concerts when suddenly the pen slipped from his fingers and flew straight under the table. You kindly lean down after it, but you can't get back up—Danya placed his arm right in front of you, preventing you from moving.

Danya: Suck it, you're gonna sit under the table like the milkises. In Kashin's opinion, "milkises" are little female fans under the age of twelve.

Danya—"Fuck you, you'll be like Milkies, sitting under my table." Milkies, in Kashin's opinion, are little fans under twelve years old. He says this with a sly grin on his face, which you, naturally, don't see, even though you really want to. Judging by Danya's laughter and the replies, the chat is already actively laughing and defending its favorite—you.